The Siege of Paris
by FrozenBadger
Summary: Anna is taken by the thought dead Frollo in order for him to draw Elsa to Paris, So she may be burned at the Stake.
1. Fire on the Horizone

"There was fire in the air, and Paris burned in his righteous flame."

The droplet of hung on the edge that belonged to the awning over the park bench. With a glint of sunlight it looked like a small diamond, shining brilliant in the morning sun. But... this droplet of water was not welcome. It was the first liquid water to come into being for almost a year, all except for the ocean that licked the sandy shores of Arendelle, but even then frost danced on its surface. As it gained weight, the water drop began to sag and gain a belly, fattened by more water melting and running to it. Soon it became too heavy, and fell from the edge of the awning. Down and down it fell, gliding down through the air with the ground growing larger and larger. But it was not to be that this drop were to land on grass, or the petal of a flower. Instead, its payload was directed to a different target, one of a more... royal, air.

* * *

Elsa felt the drop plop onto her nose, the water splashing onto the book she was reading as well and gently cascading down her cheek. She had come out during the early morning because she enjoyed how the sun danced on the ice and snow that adorned her castle, palace, and beautiful city. She had chosen a light coat with button that shone with ice thanks to the silvery mother of pearl that lined them, and a tall woolen hat that the Russians thought were all the rave. Anna always got a laugh when she wore it, and such memories always made her smile when she thought of them. The shock of getting the drop on her nose was underwhelming compared to the dread that suddenly welled up in her heart. With a jolt she jumped from her bench and spun around, looking at the roof of her palace and the awning she had been sitting under. Her chest pumped in panic as she saw more and more shining diamonds on the edges of the palace and roofs of the many guard towers. The sun was shining brightly, and left no shadow to hide the sudden looming threat in Elsa's eyes.

_drip...drip drop drip...drip drip drip drip drip..._

Elsa cried out, her face covered in panic as water began running from the many snow covered rooftops. Soon it sounded like the entire city of Arendelle was caught in a sudden summer shower, snow quickly melting and running down the streets. Elsa suddenly began sweating, her light coat feeling as if it were trying to cook her alive where she stood.

She ran. She ran as fast as she could, shedding her coat in a flourished hurry and her hat fell from her head in her sprint. Her feet splashed as she ran, throwing water up onto her dress. The water slowly began to frost as her magic began to reach out and touch her person, as it always did when she felt panic. With a watery skid she came to a halt atop the main gate to her palace, her eyes scanning over her town and the mountains surrounding. All the snow... all the ice was melting. Nothing had melted through the past summer, winter, spring, and even yesterday. Her citizens were beginning to shed their comfortable winter clothes, speaking loudly and unsure as sweat began to form on their faces.

Her magic began to freeze the ground under her feet. Elsa was angry... very, angry. Olaf, accompanied by his ever following cloud, came up beside her.

"Elsa! Elsa everything is melting!" He began to wave his arms frantically, motioning towards the horizon. "The heat is coming from over the mountains, it has a weird smell and stinks of some other kind of magic." He looked up at Elsa, his eyes wide with fear. "The heat... the heat is so great it melted your ice castle. Marsh-mellow couldnt get down here fast enough... hes..." His eyes began to well with tears, "Hes gone..."

Olaf was pushed back slightly as a wave of frigid magic washed over him and stirred the air with frost and vines of ice. Olaf looked up at Elsa and saw that her eyes with nothing but light, icy blue, her hair flying wildly as the wind stirred violently. Her braid battered against her as she bared her teeth, her face contorting into a visage of rage and pain. Storm clouds thundered from over the west side of the mountains and from the ocean, rolling forward like an army ready to do battle. The air temperature began to drop, climbing down from the foreign temperature that could melt water and over heat the body. Huge, snowy tornadoes roared down from the skys. Crystal lightening crackled through the air, striking through the clouds like sharp sword points stabbing at an enemy. Soon the temperature dropped back down to the normal range, and the once running water froze back into ice. Within minutes great mounds of snow once again covered the land, the people whom lived within the land felt relief.

Elsa slowly lowered her hands, the light fading from her eyes. The clouds stayed in place and kept the great advances of heat over the mountains from their source. Elsa looked in fury at that direction, slowly picking through her mind what countries lay beyond those sentinel borders.

"Austria and Prussia are good friends..." She began to whisper... "Poland and Russia are the same..." She began to list off the countries one by one, ticking down the list of her allies and enemies. Her powers were well known in the other countries, and with Anna being her Diplomatic Sister in Arms, she visited said countries to spread their good will. She was always well received and never had any problems, Russia even giving her a great tour and celebrations were held in the honor of her visiting the land. However... there was one place that they had not been well received. That the people seemed to have a great mistrust and a kind of superstition about magic of any kind. The people were a mix class whom hunted one another, one people in particular seemed to be catching the brunt of a storm that had been brewing in their capital city. Elsa had sent Anna on a follow up diplomatic mission to the place to try and give good relations one last try, as it was her goal to have few enemies as possible.

But Anna was late getting back. As a matter of fact she was almost a week over due, and the lack of correspondence being sent home had been troubling her for days. With this morning and the maddening heat that seemed to be coming from over her border, she felt her heart drop to her feet. She gripped the wall, her eyes trailing along the mountains.

_The heat of another strange magic..._

In her mind she moved her fingers about the map.

_Coming from over the mountains... its not Germany... Its not Spain..._

Her mind focused on one place. The only place that made sense.

_The heat is coming from Paris... Anna is almost a week late getting home..._

Olaf walked up and placed his hand over his Queen's. Elsa tensed, her fingers gripping the stone so tightly that it cracked under the weight of her fear, anger, and magic. Elsa turned so sharply that her dress didnt have time to follow her before she was moving, framing her legs in their fury to move forward. Olaf followed wordlessly after his silent Queen, his soft snowy feet padding quietly.

After some time of quiet walking Elsa and Olaf came to the great chamber that made of her meeting hall. With the weird weather and commotion amongst the town, all of her advisers were already there and loudly shouting at one another.

When Elsa entered the room, they all fell silent. The sight of their Queen in such a state could make even the most hot headed male's blood turn cold in their veins. Her hair was wild, a small portion falling over her face and shielding a small part of her face. Her eyes shone with such malice that one may even call it _madness._ The grace that had always followed their Queen was gone, her shoulder were cocked, and she bent forward slightly as if she were about to pounce and tear at the nearest target that fell before her. She walked slowly, coming to the head of the table. All eyes were on her, and all mouths were shut. No one dared ask her if she were okay, or what the matter was. She had not frozen anyone in place, and while she denied the ability to do so, people are capable of anything when revenge was on their mind.

Her hands came down, laying flatly on the top of the table. Elsa spoke in almost a feminine growl, her voice full of warning and threat. As she spoke Kristoff came into the room, worry knitted onto his face.

"How long as Anna been gone." She asked crisply

"S-she has been gone for almost a month, my Queen." An adviser stuttered out, sweat visibly traveling down his forehead despite the temperature. "She was due back a week ago tomorrow. She had been sent to Paris, France to try and mend the uneasy ties between our kingdom and theirs."

"Have their not been any REPORTS?!" Elsa roared, slamming her fist into the table like a war hammer. The wood cracked and splintered as coarse ice shattered into the wood, stabbing through like a knife through butter.

The whole room jumped and one older gentleman grabbed his heart as if it would jump out of his chest and flee from the room. The room lay silent for a moment, before one of the braver men decided to clear his throat. He shuffled through a small stack of logs and pulled one in particular from the stack.

"Paris appears to be in turmoil, my Queen. Neighbors to the city of Paris have reported their temperatures rising and springs coming far more early, winters being cut short, and summers burning the lands in such heat that some villages have found birds cooked alive in their feather when they made the mistake of pausing to rest on metal roofs." He paused, letting it sink in before he continued. "They also report in their visits to Paris that the heat in unbearable, and it has become unsafe to visit. Cults appear to be hunting people down and burning them at the stake for being 'heretical', which can range from anything to not saying their prayers, to not baking bread correctly. Out of fear people have joined this cult to avoid being burned and targeted for other harsh punishments. A spy from Austria claims that when he joined the cult, the heat no longer affected him and he began to hunger for flame itself. He has kept himself sane via potions and salves, giving great caches of information."

Elsa's eyes radiated nothing but pure anger, her eyebrows almost touching in her mask. Even Olaf had a face of anger, not at the heat but the loss of life for no good reason.

The adviser continued. "The cultists are eating fire, hot coals, and drinking boiling oil. It does not appear to be affecting them in any negative way, almost as if they are drinking water and eating bread. Some have even taking to carving into their faces with burning iron to look more like their main figure head. A heavily burned man by the name of Claude Frollo. At this point the cult has grown to such size that they have taken half of the city at the time of this report. A few months have past since we last received a report. Austrians believe their spy has since been killed or fully absorbed. They also report that most of Paris appears to be in constant flame, glowing red and orange no matter the time of day. The King of France is worried to the point he is now staying in Sweden. The country believes they have been abandoned and are running to the border countries. Even more worrying news is that another large group is heading to Paris to join this cult."

The Adviser fell silent, tossing the report back into the pile and crossing his arms. All the other Advisers knew about this report but hid it from Elsa to keep her from worrying about Anna. However now it has only caused more worry and pain to well up inside Elsa, her fingers digging so deeply into the wood that the table was basically destroyed on her side.

Elsa's eyes began to glow again, swirls of frost tapering down her cheeks as her magic fought to explode out and coat the entire world in deep cold. She slowly looked up at her Advisers, her hair seeming to glow along with her eyes.

"We are going to Paris. I consider this heat wave a shot across our bow and the delay of my sister returning home a taunt, if not a threat. This will not be taken lightly, nor will it be ignored. This... Frollo appears to think that he can do whatever he wants and challenge me in my own kingdom from his little torched stronghold."

Elsa slammed her fist once again into the table.

"We will MARCH on Paris. I do not care what France thinks, or their cowardly King."


	2. Light of Paris Burns Bright

"They dragged people through the streets like demons, the be-damned soul screaming in fear."

The city of Paris had been in a state of fear under the stern eyes of Claude Frollo, many even changing birth records to die that they had come from Romania or any such state that he saw as below the common Frenchman. Many had suffered, and many had burned just at his quick word of damnation. The celebration of Topsy Turvy Day seemed to lose its glow when he attended, and such to the point that the smiles wavered when his eyes fell upon him. Those times however came to a chaotic end when the hunchback known has Quasi Modo challenged the might of Claude Frollo over the possession of Esmeralda, their duel upon the spires of Notre Dam the main event to the play that was taking place within the city of Paris. While Gypsies and common citizens fought alongside of Phoebus to keep the fanatical soldiers under the orders of Frollo out of Notre Dam, Quasi and Frollo fought like rabid men in the sky. A great screech echoed from above, and the fighting ceased as all eyes went to the heavens. Everyone watched as Claude Frollo, sword still flashing in his hand, plummeted to the fire soaked ground. The flames swallowed him in its embrace, and the common folk cheered as Frollo's soldiers retreated into the flames with panic. As they celebrated, they were unaware that the stoically loyal men at arms had found Frollo wreathed in flame, but alive. His skin had been badly burned and his face misshapen, but in their eyes the grace of God had saved him, and they took him to a safe underground place so he could recover and gain his strength.

Peace was new, and it was well received. Things were not as happy as predicted, as many found out that Esmeralda had actually chosen the great hero Captain Phoebus instead of Quasi Modo. Some did not chastise her on her choice, but many felt sorrow for him as he descended into a deep depression. He had been last seen walking down the streets in the open in a traveling cloak, but the guard that watched the gates could not give a solid report on whether they had actually see them leave.

Time went on, and the shadow of Claude Frollo no longer kept children up at night, and city folk walked openly under the street lamps at night.

* * *

Such a state of mind was not to last so it seemed, as an unknown danger began to make itself known the city. Whispers carried the word of people going missing at night, however they were dismissed as rumors or just spooky tales to entertain while drinking at the pubs and dives. They stayed as rumors until bodies, burned to a crisp and flayed open, started to be found around the city in the poor side. It was seen more as a vigilante taking out wrath on thieves and murderers as they bodies were slowly identified and their doings made known. Naturally, not a lot of people worried over the dead bodies of the lower rung, and turned their noses to the plight and warnings of the people whom lived in the poor side.

They were ignored. They stayed ignored, until they began to flee in mass from poor side and carried with them the tales and stories of the 'Burning Men' who dragged squealing whores from their brothels and openly cut into gypsies in the streets.

Pubs and markets exploded with talk. The men that attacked and killed were clad in scorched armor, some nice, others seeming to be smashed together in a crude resemblance of a knight. More frightening was the sight of flames licking out from underneath their armor, their eyes burning like hot coals, and their foot steps leaving licking flames in their path. Out of fear that people would begin leaving the city, City Guard began to cordon the poor side and erect a rough wall and gate leading to the inner sanctum of Paris, their main goal to protect Notre Dam. Poor siders began to panic as they were cut off from leaving, and the gate had been shut and sealed to prevent the cults from leaving Paris, to the point that they were being fired upon if they approached the gate itself. Desperation soaked into the minds of those left to die, and in doing so they began to join the cult in droves. Over the course of a few short days, their numbers bolstered to the point that they roamed the streets in broad daylight, burning people at the stake simply with the point of a finger to keep their devotion assured to the ever watching Flaming Knights.

On the other side of the wall, fear was pouring deep into those who were well off enough to not be caught in poor side. Cries and shrieks carried over the walls by the wind, and with the wind came the constant smell of burning flesh and heat. The smell was so unbearable that the soldiers manning the walls began to desert their posts, others going mad from what they saw and running from the city in a panic.

The aristocrats that lived within the city even began to be affected, as their grandeur life style was dampened by the constant stench of burning whore and smoke. Their letters to the King went un answered, and troops they requested never came. Even the garrison charged with the duty of defending the city began to leave, half of which actually went to Notre Dam under the command of Phoebus himself. Hope wavered as Notre Dam turned into a fortress and no longer became a church. The doors were locked, the windows blocked with iron and steel, and armed soldiers stood at every parapet with all a manner of weapons pointed down at the streets.

No one was prepared for the onslaught that flowed over the abandoned wall, a river of fire that incinerated the fire air and any flesh it touched. Those unlucky to be caught in the surprise attack writhed on the ground in fiery agony. Their flesh melted from their bones and the fire flowed inside their eyes and mouths. Their screams choked out, snuffed out as if they were candles. The bodies jittered and twitched as the sorcery wormed its way inside the body, torching them from the inside out and blackening the bones. Those who were not caught had to watch in horror as these black skeletons stood up in their river of fire, eyes full of flame and mouths belching out flames and what ever was left of their organs. Panic caught, and people began to flee in droves to Notre Dam and the main gate. Fiery Knights bound over the wall with their foot soldiers in tow, their skin blackened and cackling like man men. Anyone who was not fast enough were cut down, their bodies consumed in flame and even by those who slew them.

It didnt take long. Those who made their way out of the city and underground survived. Those who did not were torn asunder and burned alive at the hands of the attacks that were not affected by the flames they seemed to ride upon. Women, children, and men burned in the streets, their fat crackling in the flames that bathed them like water. Notre Dam stood still, untouched by the flames, protected by the holy relics that lay within. What it could not protect were those who were not inside, and the base of the great citadel were choked with the piles of dead burning bodies. Those who stood guard watched as the cultists cavorted and danced in the streets, some even having the audacity to rape and eat the dead women and children as they burned alive. They could do nothing but watch as ammunition was in short supply; men were run down and stabbed repeatedly by their hunters; those caught by the knights were mounted to carts and flayed alive so the ever hungering fire could lick and eat away at their insides, screaming until the fire crawled up to their neck, their death only coming when they were finally turned into a blackened skeleton. Phoebus looked out over the walls, his golden hair glowing with the rich fire that burned below. He had sent Esmeralda away, smuggling her out the gate in an unmarked coach with his best soldiers riding in tow. When the reports of people being burned alive and worshiping fire as if it were a god, he had an inkling who was behind it, insane as it sounded. His eyes scanned the flames, soaking in the horrors that played out below them. In his search he found whom he had been looking for, and he strode among the flames as if it were nothing but a calm day in spring. His ever loyal soldiers walked behind him, their bodies and armor engulfed in the living flame that coated the ground.

As Phoebus looked down at this man, the man looked back at Phoebus as if he had known him from childhood.

He smiled, at Phoebus.

* * *

Anna's skin was filthy. She had been like this for days since she had been captured in the night from her guards, those poor men were cut down as if they were children. The men had taken a club to the side of her face when she walked out of her room to see what the noise was, the blood under her feet causing her to stumble and bounce her head off the floor. Her consciousness waned and waxed as she was carried through the streets like a sack of wheat, her eyes catching only the feet of her assailants and their voices sounded as if they had drank too much hot tea. Her kidnappers kept up a brisk pace, bouncing her stomach till she voided her dinner on the cobbled streets. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, they entered a graveyard. Anna had initially thought they had walked into a bakery from how hot it was, but as she opened her non swollen eye, she saw they were in some kind of crypt, with piles of burning coal scattered around the ground. Her would went black again when they tossed her into a room, the floor littered with bones and dead bodies of rats.

Slowly Anna crawled forward in her little cell, the wooden door that shut her in gave no light except for what escaped around the edges, giving it a hellish glow. She lightly touched her healing eye as she looked out with her good one, watching the scorched men run to and fro with more coal and wood. Seeing nothing that looked like food, she shrank back into her cell, the bones crunching and clacking under her thighs as she crawled. She ran her hands over her shoulders and feet, feeling the scabs and dirt that clung to her. She sighed, remembering that Elsa always hated it when she was dirty, saying it covered up her beautiful skin. Using what was left of her night dress, she wiped at the sweat that dripped down her face and stung at her eyes. Her stomach growled loudly, and she slowly looked over at the bodies of the slowly rotting rats that she had thrown into the corner when she first woke up. She was putting off every thought she had of eating them, and the very thought of eating rotting rat made her empty stomach churn and retch.

Anna was fiddling with a skull when the door crashed open. Heat and light poured into the room, burning her eyes and skin as if she were being set on fire. Two men with singed clothes and soot soaked lips walked in and grabbed her by the arms, dragging her from the room as she screamed and kicked. The rough stone floor stabbed and scratched her buttocks as they dragged her, and her bare legs gathered black ash that sat almost 3 inches thick on the ground. Anna continued to scream and fight, thrashing to and fro to get free of their grasp. She looked up at her couriers, taking in what details she could in the shadows. She only noticed that one man had blue eyes, and one had green. The soot and ash was so thick it obscured the details of their faces, and all she could see through the darkness were their bright eyes. Blue eyes grip slipped, and with that free arm she threw herself forward to sink her teeth into his hand. He howled, dropping her to the ground and slapped his other hand over the wound. Green eyes began to beat her savagely, blue eyes quickly joining in as they punched her in the stomach and back until Anna could not even attempt to catch her breath. Their fists cut her eye open, blood seeping from the flesh and dripping down her face. She cried out, but the men did not falter in their attack. Blue eyes began to slap and pinch her breasts, twisting the flesh between his fingers, reddening the skin and causing Anna is writhe on the ground and cry out in anguish. He laughed and sniggered as he pinched, clasping her nipples in his fingers. He twisted fiercely, calling her a whore as he did. Anna screamed and slapped at the man until his accomplice held her arms to the floor. He continued to coo at her, speaking softly that they were going to cook her, and how they were going to place her like a sow on a spit. Anna continued to fight and squirm, her eyes so dry that no tears even came. After blue eyes lost his sport, he gave her a kick, and the both of them retook her by the arms, continuing in their task of dragging her to her destination.

Anna heaved, but nothing came up but fowl tasting bile. She was in so much pain that he body convulsed randomly, making it even harder to catch her breath. She finally got a few good breaths in and blinked open her good eye, looking down at her poor breasts as blood dripped down them from her face. The men drug her through another door, her foot bouncing painfully off a jutting stone, and dropped her before a chair that sat in front of a roaring fire in a fire place. She didnt try to get up, just laid there trying to get a control over her breathing. Her breath was ragged, and it was hard to breath with such intense heat coming off of the fire place behind her. After a moment she opened her bloodied eye, moving one of her braids out of the way with a shaking hand. In the chair sat what was once a man, his skin looking as if he were cooked alive in a stove. He was grinning, the teeth of his jaw throwing through where a patch of skin was missing on his cheek, only a few stretches of skin between his cheek and his chin. His hair was gone, if he ever had any, replaced by more scar tissue and exposed sinew. His eyes glowed like fiery stones as he looked down, her skin crawling in disgust.

"Comfortable, i hope?" He said, his voice clear and crisp despite his bodies condition. It carried the haughty lilt of someone in power, and she hated it.

"Go to hell..." Anna managed to croak out, attempting to sit up. She fought through the crashing pain and finally got to her feet, legs trembling at the lack of food and agony.

The man smiled bigger, his finger fingers stroking the arm of the chair he was sitting in.

"I am Archdeacon Claude Frollo," He began, standing from his chair and walking towards Anna. "I once held great status here, in the _great_ city of Paris, a man above men. It was my mission to make Paris pure, to purge the scum and filth that sat like pocks on my beloved city. I had power. I had wealth, yes. But the one thing i didnt have was a wife to call my own."

Anna shuddered, her good and swollen eye tracking Frollo. He began to walk around Anna, hands clasped together on his waist, and Anna stumbled around, keeping him in front of her.

"If its a wife you need, you will not find me a suitable bride." Anna growled out, blood continuing to drip down her face and onto her torn clothes.

Frollo laughed out as if a child were speaking to him. "Oh im sure, but you see, my eye fell upon one that came from the very people i had murdered like dogs."

Frollo stood before the fire place, his back to Anna.

"She had skin that was kissed by the sun, and hair so dark is almost seemed purple. She was a dancer, and a Gypsy. I hated everything she stood for, but when she danced i would ache after her. He breasts were full, and always showed through her dress. Her ass jiggled at every step, and had every mans eye. I wanted her for myself, you see, but she did not feel the same."

As he spoke, Anna slowly began to walk towards him, being as quiet as she could with her injuries. She lunged forward, her good arm outstretched in an attempt to shove Frollo into the fire. In a flash Frollo spun around, his scarred hand clasping onto her throat like a vice.

Anna grabbed his wrist with her hands, eyes screwing shut and gurgling as his fingers dug into her neck. She choked out a sob, beating at his arms with her fists while he spoke.

"Yes, yes she fought me as well, just as you are. I even had my fingers around her neck once. Her skin was so soft... so tender... almost as much as yours." He whispered at Anna, his fingers gripping tighter until her breath came out in short, ragged bursts. He loosened his grip on her neck, his other arm coming about her waist and pulling her close. Anna drew in a desperate breath, her chest racing to get in as much air as she could before she lost consciousness. Frollo released her neck, deep red gouges remaining from how tightly he held her. Slowly Frollo traced his filthy finger down her cheek, slowly making his way down to her bruising collar bone.

Anna grimaced, looking over her left shoulder to avoid looking at his face. The smell was the worst part, she was so close that it was cloying. The stench of burnt hair and meat clung to him like a miasma, coupled with the stank of brimstone coming from his mouth.

Frollo took her chin in his fingers and made Anna look at him, her face contorting. "But, my little Nordic Flower, she had a devoted servant that vied for her attention. He sought to keep her from me, and even openly defied me to be with her. He _threw_ me down into a pit of FIRE!" he screamed, saliva spattering on Anna's face.

Roughly Frollo spun her around, clasping her jaw in his hand to make her look while holding her close to him.

"Do you see that chair, my little flower? Do you see the soft, supple leather that adorns it?" He whispered in her ear as she fought in his grasp.

"That's the man who sought to kill me, to keep me from my prize. The one who i showed mercy to and took care of like my own son. The one who betrayed me, and tried to _KILL, ME!" _He howled, so full of anger that Anna's jaw was being shaken painfully.

"_LOOK AND BEHOLD THE GREAT HERO THAT IS QUASI MODO!" _Frollo roared, so loud that the whole crypt echoed with his rage.

Fear struck her so hard that Anna was shaking uncontrollably. She was being held like a lover to a man that made people in chairs, and threw Princesses into crypts. Her mind began to race with emotions, the one she clung to the most was the fear of never seeing Elsa again. Her sister loved her more than anything, and would _do_ anything to get her back. She would eventually figure out where she was, and this mad man had to know that. She had to fight as much as she could, Elsa would expect her to do that, and she would be damned before she was turned into a chair.

"E-Elsa will come!" She managed to cry out, struggling to get free of his arms. "She will come here and cover this entire city in ice! Not even fire can fight her!"

Frollo smiled, placing his cheek against her own, his teeth scraping against her skin as he talked. "Oh i know. That the entire reason why you are here, Little Flower. I have purged this entire city of heretics and witches, but when i found out the sister of the fabled Ice Queen had come to the city? Oh... oh i could not bare to pass up that up."

He began to laugh as Anna writhed in his grasp, his breath washing over her face and making her choke. "Your sister will burn on a pyre, like the little whore of Satan that she is." He whispered, and slowly slid his tongue out of his mouth. Anna screamed and kicked at his shins, but that didn't stop him. Slowly, as if he were tasting her soul, he dragged his tongue from the base of her chin to her split eye brow, lapping at the blood that was drying on her skin. Anna felt as if her veins were trying to fly from her flesh, the feeling of his tongue on her skin was that revolting. It burned as if she had stayed out in the sun too long, making her cheek tender to his breath. Frollo shoved her from him, Anna bouncing on the ground like a rag doll. Anna arched her back in pain but didn't cry out, too exhausted both mentally physically.

"You will burn with her, if you even make it that far." Frollo said while grinning, and motioned to the two men standing in the shadows. "Take her back to her room, im finished with her. Until next time, my little Nordic Flower."

Blue and Green eyes rushed over, picking her up roughly once again and dragged her from the room, her feet dragging and bouncing on the stone. The walk back was not as violent, as she didn't fight. She was too tired to fight, and didn't want to provoke them into something worse. She kept her eyes shut, trying desperately to think of home, of cold, of snow. Blue eyes and Green eyes stopped, and she heard the lock to her door being opened, and silently tossed her back into the cell. Green eyes muttered something and laughed, walking away while Blue Eyes stayed in the door way. Anna looked up at him with her good eye, keeping the other shut.

"What... do you want? Torture me some more? Fuck me?... Fuck you." She muttered, throwing a femur at him weakly.

Without saying a word, Blue Eyes pull a small bundle from his belt and placed it next to her. Blue eyes stepped away, never taking his eyes off of her, and locked the door behind him. Anna crawled over to the bundle and pulled it open, the bones poking at her stomach. She managed to undo the knot and within the linen was a loaf of bread, a small wheel of cheese, dried beef, and a large water skin of water. There was also a small note, written in very eloquent cursive.

Anna struggled to read it in the darkness. "_Vous devez survivre, princesse. Se battre. Survivre."_

"You must survive, Princess. Fight. Survive."


	3. Ash Air

"Burning men roasted people over fires, as if it were completely normal."

Elsa was never a fan of riding horses. They smelled, they had attitudes, and if startled they would leave you for dead and save their own hide. She sighed and kicked her feet about in the stirrups, the steel clanking against the buckle that attached the girth strap. Anna had always been the horse person, taking such long rides that some days Elsa would not see her from dawn and only find her coming back at dusk. She always favored the horses, giving them sweets even though the stable master told her not to and coating the bit she used in thick honey to make it taste better for the animal. In return, the horses favored her as well, running wild about their corrals whenever she called out to them.

The beast she was currently atop held no affection for her, and she felt the same for it. In the course of the long ride, they had butted heads constantly whether it was about how fast to go, or just making the infernal animal turn around so she could look back at her troop line. At one point the horse kept spinning round to keep her from mounting the saddle properly, enraging Elsa to the point she froze the horse's feet in place so it would hold still. Naturally, the horse was not enthusiastic, and distrusted Elsa even further.

"If only Anna were here... she could make a boar so handstands..." Elsa said, sighing and turning her horse about as she came to the top of a small hill.

She surveyed her marching troops, stretching almost a mile long including the baggage train. There was not a lack of volunteers after Elsa announced that she was marching on Paris to retrieve Anna. The populace was outraged that the officials that looked over them never gave news Anna was missing, giving root a fever of revenge that ran from the alley ways of Arendelle to the high mountain top citizens that survived on shipping the constant ice flow to other countries. With the people calling for the heads of those who made this decision, the advisers in question relieved themselves of their posts and replacements stepped in with war in the their hearts. After only a few days Elsa had an army worthy of her rage, bristling with muskets from Prussia, and cannon from England. It was expensive, yes, but no expense was going to be spared when it came to her wrenching Anna from the burning streets of Paris. Her soldiers knew the risk as Elsa had kept no secrets. They knew of the fire knights, of mindless cultists that dined on fire and human flesh... but their loyalty was unwavering for their Queen of Ice, and Princess of Mercy.

Other nations at first began to call for a cease to the march, and questioned if Elsa were making an open declaration of war. However no nation started forward to keep Elsa from Paris, knowing full well what the Queen of Ice was capable of. Prussia and England didn't mind, as they profited nicely from Elsa buying weapons and ammunition, even handing sealed documents stating that if she would ever need help, or naval assistance, that all she had to do was ask.

Elsa narrowed her eyes at her troops, her steel breast plate glinting in the sun as her braid flowed gently in the breeze. Thousands of bayonets glittered in the light like deadly jewels, and cannons lined the road like a great herd of iron cattle. In her mind... she believed they wouldn't be enough. They had heart and were some of the toughest men and women she had, but fighting against living fire was going to be an entire other ordeal. Whoever this... Claude Frollo was, he had an unknown amount of power, constructing fire to do his bidding and embed itself in the very bodies of his followers.

Marsh-mellow had been a mistake, made in a moment of panic and fear. Elsa had no idea what she could make when she was angry, the very idea making a shiver travel up her spine. She had been having dreams of Men at Arms made completely of ice, and giants made of snow with icicles for teeth. Her one worry was that they would be fighting fire with ice, ice with fire. Both had the compacity to destroy the other, but Frollo had the upper hand in knowing what he was capable of. Elsa was shaken from her thoughts as a call from her command group echoed down the line, signalling an end to today's movement.

Elsa sighed, clicking at her horse. The pair moved down the hill towards the troops setting up their tents, the sun touching the horizon behind them, brown and orange from the great cloud of smoke rising in the distance.

* * *

Phoebus rested his head in his hands, his fingers digging deep furrows in his hair. He had come down to the main chapel area, plunking tiredly down in one of the empty pews. They were all covered in dust, as not many of the people within Notre Dam came down here due to the smell that trickled through the main doors. Phoebus sat up and looked behind him, resting his arm on the back of the pew. The door had been barricaded with oak planks almost a foot thick with steel bars reinforcing the wood. The amount of cannon it would take to bring the door down could not even fit in the court yard... but that was not the main thing they were worried about. The guards that manned the door were not clad in steel and pike, but priest's robes and crucifixes. Notre Dam seemed to be unaffected by the fire, a faint glow in the sea of red that had swallowed Paris. The cultists could not come near, nor could the knights that were walking bodies of flame. It was as if their power was being supplied by a conflicting force. When the cultists first tried to break down the door of Notre Dam, great spears of light shot out and pierced through their chests, throwing viscera and acrid blood into the air. Even one of the flaming knights was affected, simply snuffed out like a candle when the light spear penetrated its blazing chest plate. Since that time, no others tried to come near, giving the stones outside the stairs a wide berth... if only the holy power kept out the smell.

He stood, refitting his sword belt around his waist. His boots echoed in the stillness, taking the long spiral staircase upwards to the higher parts of the building. The quarters that had belonged to Quasi Modo had been turned into a command center, with one wall stocked with hundreds of carrier pigeon cages. The pigeons were living at one time, but no longer. They couldn't take the heat of flying over the city, and no messages got out beyond the walls. Soldiers sat on the ramparts, almost seeming to lounge as they looked down at the rolling river of fire that rolled below. Phoebus stood beside a sergeant, both of them tracking the serpent like being crawling down the roads and by ways. Around it cultists ran about, even now cavorting in their conquest. Buildings still stood, others being slowly consumed by both the living fire and the cultists. It was maddening to see from within Notre Dam, whose own food storage was not lasting nearly as long as thought. Below they burned whole sacks of grain, slabs of meat, and stacks of bread just to feed on the burnt remains.

"We are going to starve before they ever get in, sir." The sergeant said to Phoebus, looking at him with heavy eyes. "We need help, and we are going to need it very soon."

Phoebus looked at the sergeant, then looked back out over the city.

He knew that better than the rest of them.

* * *

Anna felt better. Blue eyes had given her a tiny shred of hope in the darkness. The one thing she could not get over what how dirty she was. Residue from the coal and wood fires constantly seeped in through cracks in the door. Her cut eye brow stung no matter what she did, and couldn't keep it as cleaned as it needed to be. Her ribs ached whenever she breathed, her back was bruised and sore, and her feet were so raw that she had to walk carefully to avoid being stuck by stray teeth and ribs that were strewn about the ground. The smell was also getting to her, not just of the fire and burning, but of her own waste. There wasn't a bucket or anything that resembled one. In order to keep it from getting everywhere, she had to crack open the tops of skulls and use those instead. It was demeaning, and Anna hated it and always apologized to the bones as she did... but there wasn't another option she could think of. Even worse, she was starting to get soot and dust in place where there shouldn't be, making walking a difficult task as it hurt and made her chaff. She became so desperate to clean herself she would take some of her precious water in her mouth to quench her thirst, but then spit in into her hands so she could wash her breasts and her female areas below. Blue eyes visited whenever he could, bringing food and cloth soaked in salve. It was a double edged sword whenever he visited, as he had to inflict pain on her in order to mask his movements. He tried his best to hit as softly as he could, Anna crying out excessively to cover his kindness. Her strength was back enough that she was able to start crafting a small shiv from the many bones laying about the ground. The stone of the walls was roughly carved, giving a solid base to rub and grind the bone into a smooth point. It was crude, but it had a point strong enough that it enabled her to pick at the wood of the door.

Time passed slowly in the underground, the lack of sunlight giving little knowing of time. Blue eyes came again, but with only a note he slid under her door.

Anna, her legs finally gaining back their stamina, padded over the bones and picked up the note, moving the note about in the flickering light that shown through the slits of the wall and door. In the dimness she made out that Blue Eyes was ordered to bring her in front of Frollo once again, and he wanted information of Elsa's powers.

Anna's heart jumped in her chest, bringing the note close to her breasts.

"Shes coming..." She sobbed out, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "Shes coming for me... i knew she would come for me."

Sniffling he pulled the note back out and held it up in the light, the paper wavering in her shaking fingers. Her feelings of elation were replaced by dread, as Blue Eyes continued to state that Frollo had every intention of torturing her for whatever information they could pull from her flesh. He warned her that she was highly disposable, and that her life was as important as a flea in Frollo's mind. He made a point in his note that she had to tell him _nothing_, no matter what he promised or what mercy he showed. As long as he believed she still had something he could use she would be kept alive until she told him, whether by force or persuasion. Blue eyes continued on that he would scrape a piece of metal along the wall when they were coming for her, to help her prepare for what was to come. At the bottom of his note Blue Eyes gave her words of hope and encouragement.

"Be strong for your sister..." Anna whispered, reading the note aloud. "She is coming for you with an army of your people with powerful allies at her side. Stay strong for her, and she will be strong for you. Think of flowers..."She started to cry fully now, tears staining down her ruddy cheeks. "Think of sunshine, and think of family."

Her chest heaved and crashed as she cried, falling against the door of her cell. She was already in so much pain, and now she was being told there was only more in store. Frollo wanted to torture her until she spilled every secret about her sister, and from what she has already experienced he would do everything possible to get her to break. Physical torture was a certainty, other kind of torture were thoughts she could not bring herself to bear. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and stood up, putting the note in her little hiding place where she kept the rest of her food and cloth. Elsa was coming, Blue eyes had told her that, and Anna clung to the news to keep her from drowning in despair.

Anna heard foot steps echoing outside, a crisp military walk of someone who knew exactly where they were going. Anna stood slowly, the fiery glow around the door illuminating her face. She set her lips in a grim line. What was left of her neat braids hung down her cheek and stuck to the sweat on her neck, the crusty blood that covered her face gave her a war-like appearance. Her eyes glittered with determination and hate, her body bringing forth every emotion she would need in order to survive whatever awaited beyond the door.

A scape of metal on stone screeched from outside briefly, her skin crawling with the sound. Almost a second later Blue Eyes and someone wearing an eye patch stood before the door, pulling it open slowly. She saw the look on Blue Eye's face, and he looked back at her with worry and apology.

It was time.


End file.
